


Mon Seul Soleil

by pewnova



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Self-Hatred, does anyone still even ship this anymore, idk man dirk is just, im cleaning out my folder lbr, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 14:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4104718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pewnova/pseuds/pewnova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An old drabble written months ago that I never uploaded, take it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mon Seul Soleil

**Author's Note:**

> it's 2:!4 in the morning summer vacation and i have lost control of my life

You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t goddamn, motherfucking believe it. How could’ve you been so selfish? You always think about yourself. You’re scum. You’re the vilest, most putrid scum to have ever graced the bottom of Satan’s heel. And here you were, in your incredulous, ignorant, self-endowed bubble, thinking that everything was fine. She’ll understand how you have to stay true to yourself- even though you said you loved her. And by God, you do. You love her with every inch of your being- every fiber of your person. She’s the sun, and you’re the moon, just basking in her glow. And without her? You’re just some stupid hunk of rock floating aimlessly through space. And now, you’ve almost lost her. That light, that radience, that is her. How- how could’ve you possibly thought throwing those words at her would of made it okay- would’ve made any of it okay? You didn’t even pause for three seconds before typing in those three words and eight letters, swiftly hitting ‘Enter’. Taking cover under your safety blanket of remaining true to yourself, leaving her out in the goddamn cold. And now, you’re suffocating under the heat of your own excuse. And you deserve it. You knew full and goddamn well that she was suffering. How else was the underaged drinking problem explained?  
You tried to help, you told her to get sober ever oppurtunity you could. But you didn’t really care- for her, at least. You just told her to get better for your own sake, sort of like how you give change to the homeless, knowing that they’re still going to be homeless afterward- but hey, at least they’re not homeless and starving! For the time being, at least. If you really cared for her, even a fraction like she did for you, she would’ve been happy, healthy. Smiling that ten watt grin that could brighten any day and make any angel up above green with envy. She would’ve called you Dirky, or DiStri, or Dorky, and try to immediately fix it, even though you both know it’s fully intentional and endearing. But now, the the only thing you’re hearing, is the constant beep, beep, beep, beep, of the vitals monitor that told you the sun in your sky hadn’t gone out just yet. And you wouldn’t let it. Goddamn every thing, and every person that tried to stop you. You’re not going to allow the only star in your galaxy to fade away. “Je ne laisserai pas le seul soleil dans mon ciel mourir.” It took you a little bit to realize that you had actually spoken the sentence when the soft hand in your calloused one stirred, and the voice that you thought you would never hear again chimed, blocking out everything else beside it.

“Dirky?”


End file.
